Little White Lie
by ThatRavenclawBitch
Summary: Prompt from ashadeofpemberley: Belle has been talking about her boyfriend to her sister Lacey for months now, trying to avoid anymore blind date disasters. Slight problem though: Lacey is coming to town for a visit and is demanding to meet this "Mr. Gold," and the real Mr. Gold has no idea about Belle's little scheme. Cue fake-dating and all the loveliness that it entails.
1. Chapter 1

She wasn't sure what made her do it. Maybe she was tired of Lacey's intrusive questions about her love life. Maybe she was exercising her creative writing abilities. Maybe she just wanted to sound like she had something exciting going on in her completely humdrum life. Whatever the reason, Belle French was dating Mr. Gold.

Well, Belle French was dating Mr. Gold as far as her sister Lacey knew. Her sister Lacey who lived half a world away in Los Angeles and would never know that Belle had fabricated a boyfriend to tell her all about in their biweekly phone chats. Her sister Lacey who had just announced, rather unceremoniously, that she was planning to visit her dear sister in their mother's hometown of Storybrooke, Maine at the end of the month.

Shit.

"That's great!" Belle exclaimed with fake enthusiasm. It wasn't that she didn't want to see her sister. Lacey was more than just her twin sister, she was her best friend and they hadn't seen each other in almost a year. But now she was going to be forced to come clean about her little white lie that was suddenly a huge problem.

"I know. I can't wait to meet your guy," Lacey said.

"Really?" Belle replied, cringing inwardly. "Why is that?"

Lacey let out a snort on the other end of the line.

"You're kidding, right? You guys have been dating for like six months! This is the longest relationship you've ever had. I'm so curious to finally meet him."

Belle cringed, staring down into her half empty wine glass on her kitchen counter and gripping on to her cell phone tighter than was strictly necessary. Her stomach had started to clench uncomfortably.

"In fact he's part of the reason I decided to come," Lacey continued. "If my sister is getting serious about someone, I've got to come give my stamp of approval."

Belle bit back on an audible groan, cursing the too many glasses of wine that had led to this fiasco.

It had all started a few months ago.

Lacey was going on and on about her fabulous life and Belle had nothing remotely interesting to share on her end. She was a librarian for a small and underfunded library in a cold, small town in Maine. The most exciting thing that ever happened to her was sharing the occasional bottle of wine with Ruby at Granny's Diner before she headed home to a trashy romance novel and her vibrator. Meanwhile Lacey was a talent scout for a record company in sunny Los Angeles.

Despite being nearly identical, Lacey and Belle couldn't be more different. Belle had always been the responsible sister, the compassionate one, the only person left to hold the family together once their mother had died. When their grandmother had gotten sick five years ago, it was only natural that Belle would pack up her bags, move to Maine, and take care of her. Once Nana had passed, Belle didn't have anywhere else to go. So she'd stayed, stuck in a dead end job in a dead end town.

But Lacey, well, Lacey was fearless. She'd packed her bags and hit the road at eighteen and never looked back.

She had started off following a band around on their US Tour. Once she'd made it to the west coast there wasn't a chance she'd ever leave. She found herself a position as a personal assistant to a music producer and it was only a matter of time before Lacey was going out on her own to scout fresh talent. She had a knack for finding acts with the X Factor. She also had a knack for sleeping with brilliant musicians. Belle had just sat through another long and drawn out tale of Lacey's conquests, dreading the question she was sure would come at the end of it.

"So, Bells, how's your love life going?"

And some absolutely mad part of her had lied.

"Great, actually," she'd replied, the lie tripping over her tongue with ease. "I'm seeing someone."

There was a dead silence on the other end of the line for a full twenty seconds. For a moment Belle thought her sister had hung up on her. Then she screamed.

"Oh my God! You actually have a boyfriend? Tell me everything. Who is he?"

And so Belle dove head first into the lie. His name was Gold. He was older, sophisticated, originally from Scotland and looked fantastic in a suit. If Belle's fabricated suitor happened to share several traits – and a name – with the local pawn broker who scowled at her from across the street every morning as she opened the library and showed up on her doorstep for the rent once a month, well, there was no one to call attention to it.

At least that's what she'd thought.

"I think he might actually be out of town at the end of the month," Belle hazarded, knowing better than to hope her sister would let things go that easily. And even if she did she would be in Storybrooke. She'd likely see the sign hanging smack in the middle of Main Street that heralded Mr. Gold: Pawnbroker and Antiquities Dealer. Belle had described him fairly precisely from his long graying brown hair to the expensive Italian leather shoes he favored. If her sister bumped into him on a street corner, she'd surely say something.

No, this wasn't going to work at all.

"Bullshit," Lacey cried. "Tell him to change his plans. I'm meeting him no matter what."

Belle sank into a chair at her kitchen table trying to figure out how this had gotten so out of control. Why had she kept the lie going this long?

Lacey believed she'd engaged in a torrid affair with Mr. Gold over the past few months when in truth Belle had never exchanged more than a few words with the man. She would see him the first of every month when he'd drop by for the rent on her small apartment and inevitably ask if she'd be interesting in selling the tract of farmland she owned on the outskirts of town. She always said no, he wouldn't press the issue, and that was the end of her exchanges with Mr. Gold.

She'd always wondered about him though. The man was an enigma. He was infamous in Storybrooke as landlord, loan shark and all around villain, yet no one seemed to know his first name.

Belle thought that was about the loneliest thing she'd ever heard. She knew a thing or two about loneliness, so one day she'd started smiling at him from across the street as she opened the library and he skulked into his pawnshop. He'd looked startled, turning to look behind him as if Belle was smiling to some phantom beyond his shoulder. Then he'd quickly entered his shop and slammed the door behind him.

Belle continued to smile at him, and after a few weeks he'd started to nod to her in acknowledgment. She'd given thought to chancing a wave soon, but she hadn't worked up the nerve. This was the man she'd been claiming to have incredibly hot sex with for past few months. She was pathetic.

"I'll get in that Friday night," Lacey was saying. "So I think we should try to do a late dinner with just us girls if you can tear yourself away from him for one night. I can meet him some time Saturday."

"Dinner sounds nice," Belle said, trying to devise how she was going to break the news that she was just as pathetic and alone as ever to her sister.

"I promise I won't grill him too hard," Lacey continued. "But you are my baby sister and I need to be suitably overprotective."

"You're six minutes older than me," Belle reminded her.

"Is this your first boyfriend since Gaston?" Lacey asked, ignoring Belle's interruption. "God, that was college. I'm so happy you're finally getting laid regularly. Fuck knows you need it."

"Yeah," Belle agreed without much enthusiasm as she glanced around her empty apartment. "Look, Lacey…" she began, hesitantly starting the painful process of coming clean.

"Belle, I know I joke around a lot, but I'm really happy for you," her sister said, surprisingly sincere. "After Nana died, I was really worried about you. I didn't know why you insisted on staying in Storybrooke. I just feel so relieved that you have someone there. I'd hate to think of you up in Maine all alone."

Belle dropped her head against her free hand. She couldn't tell Lacey the truth, let her know the sad state of her life.

Belle stared down at the clean surface of her empty kitchen table in her spotless, empty kitchen in her immaculate, empty apartment and came to a decision. There was no way she was telling her sister the truth.

"Thanks, Lacey," she said resolutely. "I'm happy too."

* * *

After sleeping on it, Belle awoke the next morning with a leaden feeling in her stomach.

She could just come clean to Lacey, admit that she'd lied about her perfect boyfriend and also have to own up to the crush she had on the real Mr. Gold. Knowing Lacey she wouldn't leave well enough alone, pushing Belle into some sort of horrific confrontation with the poor unsuspecting man.

Or maybe, just maybe, she could keep the lie going.

The idea came to her as she was brushing her teeth. She could make a deal with Mr. Gold.

It would be mortifying to be sure, but maybe she could spin it in such a way that her dignity would survive in tact. The only problem was she'd have to come up with something decently enticing for Mr. Gold to agree. She didn't have any money and Gold was loaded anyway. But she did have something else she knew he wanted.

Belle wasn't from Storybrooke. She and Lacey had spent the first half of their lives back home in Australia before moving to Boston in their teens. But Storybrooke was their mother's hometown. After she'd died, the one tie they still had to her was their grandmother who owned an old farmhouse in Maine. When she'd grown sick, Belle had moved to Storybrooke to take care of her and found employment at the library. When Nana had passed, she'd left her house and the surrounding land to Belle and Lacey. Belle couldn't keep up the old house on her own and the property was much too large for her to tend to, so she'd moved in to one of Mr. Gold's rental properties like everyone else in town. She knew Gold wanted the land. She knew it irked him that the little librarian owned such a large chunk of "his" town. He'd offered her far more money than she even thought it was worth, but something had always kept her from selling. She knew Lacey would jump at the chance to get rid of the place, but Belle held on to it out of sentiment. It was where her mother had grown up. It was where she'd spent her last days with Nana. She couldn't just let it go.

But maybe clinging to the past was what was holding Belle back. These past few years she'd felt completely stagnant, as though she'd pushed the pause button on her own life. It was time to hit play.

So Belle hatched a plan.

She was doubting the wisdom of said plan by the time she'd made it to the door of Mr. Gold's pawnshop. What was she supposed to do, waltz on in and ask Mr. Gold to pretty please be her fake boyfriend so her sister wouldn't worry about her? Belle glanced over her shoulder at the comforting sight of her library, one of the windows boarded up because the city couldn't afford to replace the glass.

She had to do this. It's not like things could actually be any worse for her. And maybe if she took a chance, things could possibly be better.

Steeling her spine, she pushed open the door of the pawnshop and walked inside.

Gold was standing behind the counter, looking through a stack of receipts when she entered. Early morning light was streaming in through the blinds of the high windows, slicing through the gloom of the shop and picking up the silver highlights in his dark hair. His fingers were nimbly flipping through the little slips of paper in his hands, the sharp cut of his suit showcasing the slim lines of his body. Belle bit her lip. He was so handsome and mysterious, and she was about to be mortified.

"Miss French," he said, looking up at her with surprise. "You're paid in full on your rent."

Of course he thought she'd be here about her rent. What else could she possibly have to talk to him about?

"I know," she replied nervously. "I'm not here about the rent."

Something indefinable crossed Gold's brown eyes at her words, but a second later his face had settled into a mask of polite interest.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, setting down the receipts and clasping his hands together on the handle of his gold cane.

"I wondered if we might strike a deal," she said, clawing at the fabric of her skirt for want of something to do with her hands. Everyone knew Mr. Gold's penchant for deals, as long as you had the right collateral.

If she didn't know better, she'd have almost thought Mr. Gold looked disappointed by her words, a shadow passing over his features. But what cause would he have for that?

"Ah, of course," he replied, staring down at the counter in front of him. "What did you have in mind?"

"My sister is coming to town," Belle said haltingly and rather unhelpfully. She wasn't sure how to continue this. In her hurry to actually move forward with her hasty plan, she hadn't actually plotted out what she was going to say. How could she be so stupid? Now she was stuck here floundering for the words.

Gold just looked at her expectantly. "And she's looking for a rental property?" he provided.

"No," Belle exclaimed, walking further into the shop. Such a delicate transaction shouldn't happen with her still standing in the doorway. "She's not moving here, only visiting."

Gold nodded, looking confused. "I apologize if I'm being obtuse, Miss French, but what deal could you possibly need to make with me regarding your sister?"

Her bravery, so stalwart out on the street in front of the shop was failing her now. Now, with Mr. Gold standing directly in front of her looking impeccably put together in his crisp suit, his long hair shining and soft, his well manicured hands clutching the handle of his cane, she realized this was a terrible plan. He would never agree to it and she'd have embarrassed herself in front of him for all eternity. She'd never be able to look him in the face again and Belle quite liked looking at Mr. Gold's face.

"No, it's my fault," Belle said miserably, shaking her head. "I did something stupid and now I'm making things endlessly awkward. I'm sorry, Mr. Gold, I'll just go."

Poor Gold looked completely flummoxed and Belle couldn't bear the awkwardness of this encounter for another moment. She turned to leave only to hear the scuffle and tap of his cane as he followed her.

"Miss French," he called after her, coming around from behind the counter to stand right in front of her. "If there's something you need, please, just ask."

Belle looked up at him, her heart beating out a staccato in her chest. She'd never actually stood this close to him before. His dark eyes had flecks of gold in them that she'd never managed to notice.

"I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend," she announced, the words bubbling out before she could even think them through. She was sure her cheeks were blazing now as she averted her eyes from his to stare at the toes of her shoes. She felt the flush creeping down her neck, her whole body feeling overly warm in the cool, dark shop.

"Pardon me?" he asked, his voice a rough whisper.

There was no escaping it now.

"My sister, she's a bit…" Belle searched for an appropriate word. "Intrusive, I guess. She means well, but she's relentless. She always wants to know about my personal life, who I'm dating, what I'm doing. Answering her questions week after week with 'nothing much, just tending the library,' was a bit soul destroying. So a few months ago I told her I was dating someone and, over time, that person kind of morphed into you."

Gold stared at her, his mouth slightly agape. Belle didn't think she'd ever seen him at a loss for words. He always seemed so cool, knowing exactly what to say and silencing the people of Storybrooke with a well aimed quip and a piercing stare. If Belle wasn't sure he was going to evict her for her impertinence, she might even be proud of herself for rendering him speechless.

"You told your sister you were dating me?" He finally managed. If the look on his face was anything to go by, he thought the assertion ridiculous. Belle tried not to be too stung by it. She knew she'd never stand a chance of attracting Mr. Gold's attention outside of her own fantasies.

"No, not you specifically," she clarified. Now that she'd managed to speak she couldn't seem to stop. "But someone named Gold who shares a lot of your attributes. But since I don't actually know you that well I filled in all the blanks on my own. For example, your first name is Roald."

Gold quirked an eyebrow. "Roald Gold?" he asked skeptically.

Belle cringed at the ridiculous name said aloud.

"I'm sorry, she asked for a first name and the first thing I saw when I looked around my living room was a copy of 'Matilda' and I couldn't very well call you Matilda Gold."

Gold stifled something that almost sounded like a laugh.

"I sound like a pretzel."

"That's exactly what Lacey said!" Belle exclaimed, feeling slightly more comfortable. If they could laugh about this maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all when he firmly said no. "Which then led to some slightly inappropriate sexual comments on her end."

Gold coughed a little bit at her admission and Belle realized she might have crossed a line.

"Sorry," she said, slightly mortified.

Gold just shook his head as if wondering how life had conspired to bring him to this point. Belle rather thought she could commiserate.

"You mentioned a deal," Gold said. "Typically there is some sort of consideration for the other party."

"Yes," Belle agreed.

Gold looked at her blankly and Belle realized a moment too late he was waiting for his end of the bargain. Wonderful. In addition to being crazy he now probably thought she was stupid as well.

"And what would my end of this deal be, other than the unmitigated pleasure of your company?"

He was mocking her and Belle couldn't help the nasty look she leveled at him.

"The tract of land on the outskirts of town," she began. "The one you've expressed interest in in the past."

"Yes," he replied. "I remember it."

"You can have it," she said with a decisive nod of her head.

Gold arched an eyebrow at her. He clearly wasn't expecting her offer.

"You'll sell me your property in exchange for my pretending to be your…boyfriend," he seemed to stumble over the word.

"Yes," Belle agreed.

"You must really want to save face in front of your sister."

Belle stared back at him. "My reasons are my own."

Gold held up a placating hand. "Fair enough," he acquiesced. "I must say, Miss French, this is the single most unusual deal anyone has ever offered me. And I have made a lot of deals in my day. You're full of surprises."

Belle sighed, her cheeks positively flaming. He was going to turn her down and she'd have mortified herself in front of both Lacey and Mr. Gold. Her entire plan was for naught.

"I'm sorry," she began.

"Don't apologize," he countered. "I like being surprised. It happens so very rarely these days."

Belle's eyes widened in surprise, her heart suddenly rising from the place it had firmly sunk. There was a smirk playing across his lips, a gleam in his eye she'd never seen before. Was it possible he was actually considering accepting?

There was a beat of silence, the atmosphere of the shop tense as if the whole room was holding its breath and not just Belle.

"It's a deal, Miss French."


	2. Chapter 2

"Your favorite book is Persuasion by Jane Austen," Belle said, flipping through her notebook.

They were parked in a booth at Granny's as they rehearsed the facts Belle had peppered into her conversations with Lacey over the past six months. She didn't know how much her sister would actually remember about her mythical boyfriend, but she wanted to cover her bases anyway. She'd spent the past week writing down everything she could remember about Roald Gold, along with pertinent information about herself, and collected it in a notebook for him to take home.

Gold pulled a face, his nose screwing up at her choice.

"What?" she asked. "It's my favorite book."

"And isn't it convenient we share the same one," he quipped.

Belle shrugged. "I doubt it'll come up anyway. Lacey isn't much of a reader. But just in case it does, It's about a woman named Anne…"

Gold held up a hand to silence her.

"I've read it," he interrupted. At the look on Belle's face he continued. "That's how I know I didn't like it."

"Oh," she said, for lack of anything better to add. "Why not?"

Gold frowned, wrapping a hand around his coffee cup and looking pensive.

"The idea that you can recapture something as beautiful and rare as true love, it's misleading."

Belle had to stifle a snort at his summation.

"It's fiction," she said.

"I suppose you're right," he said with a little shrug, sitting back in the booth. "I just prefer my fiction to have a little more basis in reality. No use dwelling in dreams and all that."

Belle arched an eyebrow, ready to debate him on that but she was interrupted.

"Are you two done here?" Granny demanded, approaching their table. They'd commandeered it for the past two hours garnering more than a few strange looks at the taciturn pawnbroker and the solitary librarian sharing a table. "Need a check? You've done nothing but drink coffee and it's almost the dinner rush."

Gold looked decidedly unamused.

"Do you have more patrons clamoring for this table?" he asked menacingly, glancing around the mostly empty diner. "I didn't realize business was going so well for you, dearie. Perhaps it's time to renegotiate that lease agreement. If I recall correctly you specifically listed the flagging local economy as a reason for requiring extra time on your rent last month. I'd hate to think you were taking advantage of my generous nature."

Granny scowled at him, refilling his coffee cup with a little more force than necessary before stomping away.

Belle gave a little shiver at how easily Gold had threatened Granny. It was a stark reminder that the man sitting before her was vastly different from the one she'd created in her head. Her Gold was a lonely man who didn't know how to reach out to those around him. He was a man who felt and loved deeply, afraid to let the outside world in too close. He wasn't a villain, merely misunderstood.

But the real Gold cultivated his bad reputation with glee, something that had become evident as she'd spent more time with him.

"Why are you so antagonistic toward everyone?" she asked, frustration boiling over. She didn't like being wrong about people. She didn't want to be wrong about Gold. Maybe there was something, anything, that made him act the way he did.

"I own most of the real estate in this town, Miss French," he said softly. "People will never think kindly of anyone to whom they are indebted. It would be futile to try to court their good opinion. They certainly don't desire mine."

She bit her lip, turning her face back to the notebook in her hands and rifling through it. She had no real reason to question him on his methods. She wasn't really his girlfriend, just a pathetic little girl playing at pretend. If Mr. Gold wanted to be a terror, who was she to contradict him? She cast her eyes around on the page in front of her looking for some way to change the subject.

"I told Lacey you were divorced," she finally came up with.

Gold swallowed his coffee down.

"That's accurate."

"Oh," she said with surprise. She didn't know why she was surprised. She'd made up the backstory for him herself. Perhaps it was because every other assumption she'd made about him had proven to be wrong.

"Surprised to hear that I ever duped someone in to marrying me?" he asked with a hard smile.

"No, of course not," she answered truthfully. "I mean, I'm supposed to be in love with you, right? I wouldn't have picked you if I didn't think it were possible."

Gold narrowed his eyes, regarding her shrewdly for a moment. She wondered if she'd said too much once again. Then he gave a little sigh.

"The operative words there being 'suppose to be', Miss French."

Belle wasn't entirely sure how to answer that, so they sat in silence for a moment until it started to grow increasingly uncomfortable. Gold gave a little cough, leaning back in his seat and fidgeting a bit. Belle had never taken him for fidgety. He was usually so calm, eerily still in his dealings with the town. But right now he was rubbing the fingers of his right hand together, not quite meeting her eyes.

She shook her head, getting back to the matter at hand.

"We really need to get through this. Lacey will be here tomorrow and she's meeting you the day after."

"You were born in Melbourne. You have one sister. Your father's name is Maurice and he lives in Boston. Your mother was named Colette and she died when you were 15. You moved to Storybrooke 5 years ago and we soon became friendly but it all came to a head six months ago when I asked you to dinner. We've been together ever since," he recited back to her.

Belle nodded. "I suppose we're as ready as we'll ever be to fake a relationship."

Gold raised an eyebrow, leaning forward on his elbows again.

"Your sister is only going to be here for a few days," he said. "It's easy enough to fake this relationship for that amount of time. But what are you going to do after she leaves?"

Belle sighed. "This is the first time in 5 years that my sister has been to visit me in Storybrooke. I don't anticipate her ever coming back. A few weeks after she leaves I'll just mention that we broke up ands he won't question it."

Gold just watched her skeptically.

"I'm not going to force you to keep this going for years on end if that's what you're worried about," she continued self consciously.

Gold looked slightly confused by her words. "I didn't expect anything of the sort, I assure you."

There was another beat of silence, the awkwardness making Belle want to disappear underneath the table. Though that would probably make things even more awkward, she mused. Things could only get worse if she inadvertently put her face in his crotch.

"So what do we do together? For fun," Gold asked. Belle blushed at the direction her thoughts had taken and struggled to come up with a reasonable answer.

"Um, I don't know," she said inarticulately. "Whatever normal couples do, I guess."

Gold narrowed his eyes at her. "I thought you'd told Lacey all about us."

"I have," she returned. "But not so much the day to day boring stuff. We can make that up as we go along so don't worry about saying the wrong thing there."

That didn't seem a sufficient answer to Gold's question.

"What do the two of you talk about then if not the boring day to day stuff?"

Belle's stomach flipped. It was true Lacey had asked a lot of questions about her new romance over the past few months, but picnic dates, coffee at Granny's and trips to the theater were the farthest thing from her mind.

"Um, Lacey's interest lies more in the carnal aspects of our relationship?" she wasn't sure why the statement came out as a question, her voice getting higher and her words tipping up at the end.

Gold blinked, his mouth opening slightly. Belle rather thought she'd rendered him speechless for an unprecedented second time.

"Ah, so I'm to understand…" he trailed off, looking at Belle helplessly.

Belle took a deep breath before plunging ahead.

"We have a lot of sex, yes," she said, closing her eyes as if she could shut out the world. "In fact, it's mostly a sexual relationship with bits of conversation in between. I'm sure Lacey is going to grill you about certain things, so just, I don't know, say a gentleman never tells or something."

She let out the words in a rush, cracking an eye open to gauge Mr. Gold's reaction. She hadn't wanted to divulge the truth about what exactly she'd been telling Lacey over these past few months and she certainly wasn't going to get into the particulars of her fantasy of him taking her over one of his display cases in the middle of the afternoon. But if they were truly going to pull this off he needed to be somewhat aware of what Lacey was expecting.

Gold looked mystified for about the twentieth time since this whole deal had begun. Belle assumed he must really want the property she'd promised him to be putting up with her at all.

"Your sister is never going to believe that," he said finally, his posture stiffening.

Belle frowned, startled. "Why not?"

She knew she was nothing spectacular, and that he was a wealthy, worldly businessman, but was it so hard to believe that he might deign to sleep with her? She was moderately attractive after all. Lacey was her identical twin and she certainly had no trouble attracting male attention, so she knew it wasn't her looks that caused her perpetual singledom. Her personality she couldn't account for. She could be both painfully shy and brazenly honest by turns. She'd been afraid to wave at Mr. Gold from across the street thinking it too forward and yet here she sat discussing their fabricated sex life.

"If you haven't noticed, Miss French, I have at least 20 years on you," he said assuredly. "I walk with a cane. I understand that you gave your sister my name, my profession and everything else, but I'm sure you didn't tell her that. I'm not some muscled up twenty-five year old. She's not going to believe it."

He rattled off his reasons as if that were the end of things and their plan was doomed from the start.

Now it was Belle's turn to be shocked. He thought Lacey wouldn't believe she was attracted to him? She'd been attracted to him for years. The accent alone would have had her throwing her panties at him but he had to go and be devastatingly handsome on top of it.

"I described you exactly," she said, jutting her chin out resolutely.

"Excuse me?" Gold stopped with his coffee mug lifted partway to his lips.

"Lacey knows you're older than me," she said, waving a hand at him. "She knows you carry a cane and wear nice suits and run a pawnshop. She knows everything. And she doesn't have the slightest problem believing that you put aside the cane, take off the suit and fuck me in the pawnshop!"

A clatter of a fork punctuated the silence that followed her declaration as Ruby halted in the middle of bussing the table next to them, her eyes blown wide as she stared in their direction.

Gold cleared his throat. "Well I think this has been enlightening enough for one evening."

She'd gone too far, made this uncomfortable for him. Belle bit her lip wondering if there were any way to apologize that wouldn't make things worse, but he was already standing from the booth, throwing a wad of cash down on the table.

"I'll see you on Saturday, Miss French," he said, picking up the notebook with their falsified history covering the pages. "I'll make sure to do my homework in the meantime."

Belle watched him leave, her heart thumping in her chest and her stomach roiling like she might be sick. She was in way over her head with this one.

"What the hell was that all about?" Ruby hissed at her after the diner door had shut behind Gold.

Belle just dropped her head into her hands.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

* * *

Lacey arrived the next day like a freight train slamming in to Belle at full speed. In fact, Lacey ran straight at her when she saw her and positively leapt into her arms. Belle had driven to Portland to pick Lacey up at the airport and her sister had barely gotten her overstuffed suitcase into the trunk before she was asking about Gold.

"I can't wait to meet him!" she squealed, scooting into Belle's passenger seat. "I actually made a list of questions on the flight. It was miserable. So long and the plane didn't have wifi. I drank 6 vodka tonics and worked out everything I was going to ask him this weekend."

"Well, you'll meet him tomorrow," Belle promised. "Tonight, it's just sister time."

They had dinner at Granny's and Belle introduced Lacey to Ruby. The two hit it off immediately and Belle ended up being dragged to the Rabbit Hole once Ruby finished her shift. By the end of the night she'd had entirely too much to drink and it was all she could do to navigate the stairs up to her apartment above the library.

She and Lacey fell into the bed still fully clothed in a drunken heap.

"I made out with your friend Ruby," Lacey confessed. "While you were in the bathroom."

Belle cracked an eye open to look at her sister. "Okay."

"She's nice and she's hot, but I feel kind of bad about it," she said drowsily, turning over and burying her face in a pillow.

"Why?" Belle asked.

"'Cause I'm kind of in love with someone else and I feel like I cheated on him."

Belle sat up on her elbows, her head spinning. "What?"

But Lacey was already asleep, light snores coming from her direction. A pity, Belle thought as she collapsed back against the bed. There's no way her sister would be so forthcoming while sober.

The next morning, Belle awoke with a raging headache and the lingering sense of shame that seemed to accompany public displays of drunkenness. She wouldn't normally imbibe quite so much, but being out with Lacey and Ruby, she'd forgotten to pace herself. They could hold their liquor far better than she could.

She had made plans to meet Mr. Gold at his shop at noon to introduce Lacey. The idea was that if Lacey wasn't fooled, Gold could quickly explain that he needed to get back to work and buy them some time to work things out. The real test would be that evening when the three of them were supposed to go out for drinks. Belle's stomach already roiled at the thought of more alcohol.

Lacey, on the other hand, seemed bright eyed and bushy tailed following a night of hard drinking. She was awake before Belle, hanging out her kitchen window with a cigarette clad in nothing but her underwear and a ripped up band t-shirt.

"Good morning, sleepy head!" she exclaimed when she saw Belle. She stubbed out her cigarette on the windowsill, tossing it to the street below and waving her hand through the air to get rid of the smell. "I made coffee."

Belle went to the coffee pot gratefully, pouring herself a mug and foregoing her usual cream and sugar. She needed the stuff black this morning.

"So when do I get to meet the pretzel man?" Lacey asked, picking up her own mug, a favorite of Belle's that was emblazoned with the words "Reading is Sexy".

"Please don't call him that to his face," she said with a shake of her head.

Lacey arched an eyebrow. "Who do you take me for?"

"Lacey Louise French, Queen of inappropriate banter," she answered deadpan.

Lacey just rolled her eyes. "Well if this guy is gonna be my brother-in-law he'd better get used to me."

Belle's eyes bulged at Lacey's words.

"Brother in law?" she let out in a strangled yelp. "Do not under any circumstances mention marriage to him."

"Seriously? You guys haven't talked marriage yet?"

"Lacey, we're still just getting to know each other," Belle reasoned. The last thing she needed was scaring Gold into thinking he'd have to keep this ruse going through to a fake wedding.

"Mhmm," Lacey hummed around the rim of her mug smugly. "From what you've told me, you two know each other intimately."

Belle ignored the bait. "Why would you think I was ready to marry him?"

"Because you've been dating for six months," Lacey said with a shrug of one shoulder. "I know you. You wouldn't date someone for that long if you didn't see a future with them."

Belle couldn't rightly argue with that, but it presented a whole knew slew of issues. Lacey clearly thought this relationship was far more serious than Belle had let on. When the inevitable break up came, Lacey would probably end up even more worried about Belle than if she'd been alone all along.

It was with that niggling sense of worry that they headed off to the pawnshop to meet the man in question.

Gold was standing behind the counter in his shop, one hand clasped around the handle of his cane and the other laying against the glass surface of the display case. He also happened to be wearing Belle's very favorite tie of his, blue with a paisley pattern overlaid in the rich silk. It matched the pocket square peeking out of his suit pocket and the slightly lighter blue shirt he was wearing. He looked divine.

"Good afternoon, Sweetheart," he said with the biggest smile she'd ever seen grace his face. Gold crossed the room, looping an arm around her waist and pulling her to him. She'd only a second's warning before he kissed her, just a gentle peck against her lips, but enough to make Belle gasp. She'd just enough time to appreciate the softness of his lips before he was gone, turning to look at Lacey with his left hand still settled at the small of her back.

"And you must be the famous Lacey," he said, turning his surprising charm on her sister, and extending his right hand to her. "Roald Gold. It's lovely to finally meet you."

"Same," Lacey said shaking his proffered hand. "I've heard a lot about you."

Gold raised an eyebrow. "Have you now?"

"Oh yeah," Lacey said, casting an appraising eye over Gold. He looked slightly uncomfortable under her scrutiny. "You're exactly how I pictured you," she said finally, nodding her head.

Gold glanced at Belle and she blushed slightly. "Yes, well, I'm sure Roald has work to do. We should get out of his hair."

"I'm actually pretty freed up here," Gold responded. "Why don't we grab lunch?"

Belle tensed, shooting a look at him. This was definitely not part of their plan. They were supposed to get in and out, keep things light and superficial.

"Great!" Lacey exclaimed, leading the way out of the shop.

Belle grabbed hold of Gold's arm as they followed after her.

"What are you doing?" she hissed under her breath.

"Trust me," was all he said in return, locking up the shop behind them as they made their way to lunch.

* * *

Mr. Gold, Belle decided, had missed his calling. He was clearly made for a career in the theater.

She knew he had a way with words. The man could talk his way around anything. But the tales he spun out of thin air were nothing short of magical. Belle hardly had to contribute, just sitting back and letting him take point describing their fictional first date in detail, down to the dress she was wearing. Belle was particularly shocked when she realized he was describing a real dress that was currently hanging in her closet, a blue A-line that was one of her favorites. He even remembered her favorite scarlet peep toes that she often wore with it.

The man was a wonder.

"So what was your first impression of my sister?" Lacey asked, sucking her coke noisily through her straw.

"I thought she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen," he replied without missing a beat. "It was about five years ago. I was closing up the shop for the evening and I saw her. She was standing outside the library, her nose buried in a book, completely oblivious to the world around her. It looked like rain, but she didn't notice, just smiling at something in that tattered old book. She looked like a woman with a secret, lost in her own special little world. And right then and there I knew I wanted to be a part of it. To get a glimpse of the world she saw through those beautiful blue eyes."

Lacey smacked her lips. "Hell," she said, crossing her arms and looking askance at Belle. "That's fucking poetry."

Belle bit down on her bottom lip, trying to stifle the pleased little smile that threatened to cross her face. She had no reason to be pleased. Gold had just made that entire exchange up. But God how she wanted it to be true.

"So how come it took you so long to ask her out?" Lacey demanded. "If you'd been pining for her for 4 and a half years, what made you finally go for it?"

Gold took a deep breath, sitting back in his chair.

"I thought I'd never stand a chance, of course," he replied, looking at Belle. "Your sister is beautiful and sweet. She lights up every room she enters. Why would she be interested in an old pawnbroker?"

There was something melancholy in his words. Something that made Belle cock her head slightly to the side, her eyes a question. One that Gold didn't seem inclined to answer.

"And then one day she did something no one in this town ever does," he continued, turning back to Lacey. "She smiled at me."

Lacey let out a snort. "Oh, that's cute. Way to express interest, little sis."

Belle blushed, looking down at her hands. His stories were starting to veer a little too close to reality. She wasn't sure if he was mocking her or not. Her morning glimpses of Mr. Gold, the tentative smiles and nods they would exchange, had long been the highlight of her day. The idea that he would laugh at her for that stung worse than just telling Lacey the truth ever possibly could.

"Smiling at Mr. Gold takes bravery," she shot back in defense of herself. "You don't know his reputation. He might just as soon have evicted me for impertinence or had me run out of town for displeasing him."

Gold looked up at her, some indefinable emotion flashing across his brown eyes, his mouth settling in to a smile that looked more like a grimace.

Lacey just snorted again. "It's a wonder you two ever got together."

By the time they'd finished lunch, Belle was fairly certain they'd managed to keep the ruse going. Lacey definitely didn't seem suspicious, despite Gold laying it on a little thick.

They parted outside the diner, Gold giving Belle another peck, this time on the cheek, before heading off down the street to his shop. Lacey looped her arm through Belle's, leading her off in the opposite direction.

"He's definitely in love with you," Lacey said with a smirk. "No one tries that hard to win over the family unless they're truly smitten."

Belle let out a soft little sigh wishing her sister's words were truth. But she rather thought Gold was much more invested in the property she'd promised him than anything else she could possibly offer. She was just the silly girl who'd had the gall to smile at him.


	3. Chapter 3

Belle stewed over their lunch with Gold for the rest of the afternoon. He'd peppered in all kinds of little details that she hadn't included in the notes she'd given him. What did he think he was playing at, selecting particular dresses out of her closet from memory? If he kept playing fast and loose, they were going to get found out. He was supposed to keep things as light and vague as possible.

Belle had a sinking suspicion he was well aware of her little crush on him and was using it against her, playing with her like a cat would a mouse. She didn't like the feeling of being a mouse one bit.

When Lacey disappeared to take a shower and get ready for their night out, she decided it was time to have a little chat with Gold.

She punched his number into her cell phone a little more forcibly than she normally would have. She was still smarting from his jibe about her waves to him every morning and she wasn't looking forward to facing him again that evening. But seeing as it was inevitable, she needed to set him straight on a few things first.

"You're laying it on too thick," she said almost immediately after he'd answered.

"Belle?" he asked with surprise. She tried not to notice how lovely her given name sounded on his tongue, melodious and beautiful and much better than the clipped 'Miss French' she was used to.

"Are you pretending to be anyone else's boyfriend at the moment?" she scoffed. "Of course it's me."

"Ah," he replied. "Then I'm afraid I'm confused."

Belle rolled her eyes. "Lunch," she said succinctly. "You were waxing poetic about me. It was completely unnecessary."

"I was under the impression we were supposed to be in love," he said quietly.

Belle bit her lip, hating how she was feeling. She couldn't quite put it in to words, but the fact that Gold was being so charming when none of it was genuine was wearing on her. And the fact that he'd woven details of her real life into his narrative made things that much worse.

"Well, yeah," Belle agreed. "But you're going overboard. Don't oversell it. Lacey thinks we're ready to march down the aisle. She needs to not worry about me when I tell her we broke up."

The other end of the line was silent for a moment and Belle feared he'd hung up on her.

"Fine," he said at length, and Belle didn't think she was imagining the air of disappointment she detected in his voice. Well, of course he was disappointed. He'd done a fabulous job feigning interest in her over lunch and here she was scolding him for it instead of thanking him for the performance.

"Look," she said with a sigh. "I really appreciate you going to all this trouble."

"But try to reign myself in," he finished for her. "I certainly understand."

"It's not that I'm not grateful," she said. "But if you're too charming, Lacey is never going to let this go."

There was another silence before Gold finally spoke again.

"I believe that's the first time anyone has ever called me charming," he said. "Believe me, I shan't try again."

Belle hung up the phone feeling even worse than she had before she made the call. She wanted to cry and she wasn't entirely sure why.

* * *

They met for a drink that night at the Rabbit Hole, and Belle's stomach was churning so badly she couldn't imagine stomaching a drink. Despite that, Lacey showed up at the table with a gin and tonic for herself and glass of red wine for Belle.

A few moments later, Gold arrived, spotting them at their corner booth and heading their way. Belle let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Part of her expected him to be a no show after their phone conversation. She certainly wouldn't blame him for calling the whole thing off.

"Belle," he said with a tight smile, not swooping in for another kiss like he had earlier in the day. "Lacey, a pleasure to see you again."

"Have a seat," Lacey exclaimed, scooting out of the booth so he could sit next to Belle before sandwiching him in on the other side.

"So, Mr. Pretzel Man," Belle repressed an eyeroll at that. "When are you going to propose to my sister?"

Gold choked on his scotch, sputtering and looking as undignified as Belle had ever seen him. She might enjoy it if she wasn't sure her face had lit up like a traffic light with embarrassment.

"Lacey!" she exclaimed.

"Oh, come on, sis!" Lacey cajoled. "You guys have been together for 6 months. By his own admission he was pining for you long before that. It's an obvious question."

"It is a fair question," Gold agreed, wiping his mouth with his handkerchief. "You want to know my intentions with your sister. But I'm not sure marriage is in our future."

Belle's head snapped up. She'd told him to tone it down, but she didn't want him swinging too far in the opposite direction.

Lacey narrowed her eyes, turning her body toward Gold and focusing in on her prey.

"And why is that?" she demanded, taking a sip of her drink. "You don't want to marry my sister?"

There was a note of simmering hostility in Lacey's voice. She'd always been protective of her sister. But Belle just wished she could disappear. She tried shooting Lacey a look, communicating telepathically, anything to make her just shut up. But Lacey was ignoring her, eyes on Gold.

"To be completely honest, I'm not entirely certain your sister would want to marry me," he answered.

Lacey's eyes swung to Belle at Gold's words, her eyebrow arching so high it was in danger of disappearing into her hairline.

"Why don't you want to marry him?" she demanded of Belle this time. "He's bloody perfect for you. Likes the same shitty books and everything."

"Lacey!" she exclaimed again. "Can we not talk about this now?"

Lacey shrugged. "If you don't talk about it now, when will you?"

"When we're ready to," Belle said with a firm nod. She was so caught up in the moment it almost felt real. But in truth she and Gold would never talk about marriage because she and Gold weren't ever going to be in a real relationship.

"Well how about children?" Lacey continued, turning back to Gold. "I know Belle wants a couple, but you've been married before. Any kids from your previous relationships?"

"Yes," Gold said, startling Belle. She never knew he had any children. "A son. He's grown. Doesn't live here anymore."

His eyes flicked to Belle, gauging her reaction at the new piece of information. A son had not been part of his backstory in the all-important notebook she'd given him. Was it another embellishment like his story about the first time he saw her? Or was it the truth?

"Would you be open to more children?" Lacey continued tenaciously.

Gold opened his mouth, then closed it before shrugging. "If that's what your sister wants."

Belle dropped her head into her hands wondering if there was anything in this world more mortifying than talking about hypothetical children with a man you'd never actually had sex with. Well, real life sex. She couldn't speak for her fantasies. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before looking at Gold. He had a slight smirk on his face. The bastard was enjoying this!

Belle felt a surge of something that was like courage only a bit more vindictive.

"You never told me you had a child," she said, crossing her arms.

"Well I do," he countered.

"Wait," Lacey interjected. "How did you not know?"

"It never came up," Gold said, not taking his eyes off of Belle.

"In six whole months it never came up that you have a kid?" Lacey scoffed.

"We're not close," was Gold's answer.

"Shocking," Belle mumbled under her breath.

"What was that, sweetheart?" Gold asked, but Belle didn't for one second believe he hadn't heard her.

Lacey was watching Belle closely, her eyes pinging back and forth between her and Gold..

"So you guys don't want to get married," she stated, still eyeing them closely. "And despite dating for six months, you didn't know he had a kid. Am I getting this right?"

Belle winced, sure that the jig was up. Lacey wasn't stupid. She was sure to realize that this train wreck was all a set up.

"Apparently," Gold agreed.

"Wow," Lacey sighed cupping her hands around her empty glass. "Belle was right when she said all you guys do is fuck."

Gold choked on his scotch for the second time that night and Belle was torn between mortification and relief.

"Speaking of fucking," Lacey said by way of segue. "Any chance I can see this lake house of yours while I'm in town?"

Belle was fairly sure her eyes bulged out of her head at her sister's question. She'd completely forgotten about the damn lake house, and the fairly graphic things she'd told Lacey they'd gotten up to inside it. She chanced a glance at Gold, but thankfully he didn't look the least bit surprised.

"Any reason you want to visit?" he returned coolly.

Lacey shrugged. "I've heard it's a great place to get away," she said with a smirk. "Belle sure seems fond of it."

"Lacey, wouldn't you rather stay in town?" Belle asked. "I mean there's not much to do out there in the woods."

"And Storybrooke is just teeming with nightlife, is it?" Lacey shot back sarcastically. "I've seen the diner and the library and the pawn shop. We're currently having a drink in the only bar. Unless there's an underground gambling ring or a speakeasy I don't know about, I'm pretty sure we've exhausted Storybrooke."

Belle leaned back, crossing her arms against her chest. She knew Storybrooke wasn't much, but it was home. Hearing Lacey talk about it so derisively stung, even though she knew her sister didn't mean anything by it.

"Come on," Lacey continued. "We could go for a swim. Play some drinking games. Get up to no good."

Gold's hand found Belle's underneath the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze before she could refuse Lacey yet again.

"If that's what you'd like, I can certainly make arrangements," he said. "We'll go up tomorrow."

"Great!" Lacey said brightly. "I'm gonna get a refill. Anyone need anything?"

Belle shook her head motioning at her still full glass of wine and Lacey headed off to the bar.

"I'm so sorry," Belle whispered to Gold as soon as she was gone. "I may have fabricated a lake house for you at some point in our conversations. There's this place I always see when I go for runs in the mornings. It's just a tiny cabin right off the jogging trail and I told Lacey about it and made it yours. I don't know how we're going to get out of this one."

"It's fine," Gold reassured her. "It just so happens I own a place near the lake. It might be tight living quarters for the weekend, but we'll manage."

Belle's mouth fell slightly open. Was there no limit to how far Gold would go to keep this ruse going? If he didn't stop soon she'd be in very great danger of believing in it herself. She knew there wasn't a chance in hell that Mr. Gold had any real feelings for her, but when he was so accommodating and charming it was enough to make her almost fall for it.

"Why are you doing this?" she blurted out.

"Doing what?" he asked, looking genuinely surprised.

"Being so nice! God, I all but yelled at you for being too good of a fake boyfriend, I've been a complete bitch tonight, and you're still playing along."

"We have a deal," he said with a shrug. "I always uphold my deals."

Belle let out a snort.

"You're going a little above and beyond here," she said. "I'm sure when you agreed to this you didn't expect you'd have to spend the night in a cabin with me and my sister."

Gold gave a little shake of his head. "No, I certainly didn't anticipate that. But trust me, Miss French, your company is no bother."

Lacey arrived back at the table then and Belle was left to mull over Gold's words for the rest of the night. Her sister commandeered the conversation once again, turning to questions of Gold's real estate holdings to "test his solvency". Belle was just relieved her sister had moved on from sex to money.

* * *

The trip to the cabin proved blessedly uneventful. Lacey seemed to have exhausted embarrassing topics the night before and was uncharacteristically quiet as they piled into Gold's shiny black Cadillac late Sunday morning and headed to the lake.

It was Memorial Day weekend, so the library was closed on Monday. Gold had the luxury of setting his own hours so they were free to stay as long as they wanted the next day.

Lacey's flight was headed out on Tuesday, so Belle was keenly aware this was probably the last she'd see of Gold for a while. She didn't imagine he'd want much to do with her after she'd forced him to spend a weekend in close quarters with Lacey. It seemed a shame to go back to those tentative smiles across Main Street every morning though. She supposed she'd have to chance that wave now that they actually knew each other.

Well, she knew Roald Gold. She didn't know the real Gold at all, starting with what his actual first name was.

When they pulled up to the cabin, Belle's heart stuttered to a dead stop.

It was her cabin. Well, not hers, but the very one she saw on her morning runs. There was always a slightly fairy tale quality to it, standing resolutely in the morning mist wafting off the lake. She'd imagine coming out here, drinking her coffee on the front porch and feeling the cool morning air on her skin. She always wondered who owned it, but never though to ask.

And to think, it was Gold all along.

"Wow, Belle," Lacey said, climbing out of the backseat. "It looks exactly like you described it."

She wandered off down toward the water as Gold grabbed their bags out of the trunk. Belle rushed to help him.

"I can't believe this is really your cabin," she whispered. "This is the exact one I was thinking of."

"Lucky break," he said with an enigmatic smile.

The inside of the cabin was exactly as Belle had pictured. It could have come straight out of her imagination. There was a large fireplace surrounded by a squat little sofa and two fat, squishy looking armchairs. A plush rug was spread out in front of the fireplace that probably cost more than anything Belle had in her entire apartment.

The kitchen was small but serviceable with a little wooden breakfast table. Someone had put a bouquet of fresh peonies on it, Belle's very favorite flower.

"I'm afraid there's just the one bedroom," Gold said, motioning to a door off the main living space. "You two can feel free to unpack in there. I'll sleep on the couch."

"Oh, God, no," Lacey announced. "I'll take the couch, no problem."

Gold looked at her in surprise. "You'd certainly be more comfortable in a real bed."

Lacey snorted. "I've kipped on my fair share of couches, Roald," she assured him, patting him on the shoulder. "I don't want to cramp your style at all and I know you two want to share a room. Besides, from what Belle's told me you guys get up to here, I'm not entirely sure I want to sleep on that mattress."

Gold looked ready to protest, but Lacey just patted his shoulder again before grabbing her bag and plopping it down on the sofa.

"It's too short for you anyway," she said, plopping down next to her bag. "But I'm nice and pint sized."

Lacey kicked her feet up on the coffee table and that was that.

They'd brought along Granny's burgers with them for lunch and ate them on the back deck overlooking the lake. After lunch, Lacey insisted on going for a swim, leading to Belle's first minor freak out of the day.

She'd brought her swimsuit, of course. Lacey had insisted on it. But now she had to put on her swimsuit. In front of Mr. Gold. She had to wear a bikini in front of Mr. Gold.

After just devouring a Granny's hamburger.

Belle sighed, looking herself over in the bathroom mirror. Her breasts were far too small. She was thin, but her stomach was currently poofed out from her meal. Her thighs could do with some slimming down. She didn't have a bad body image usually. In fact, she didn't really think much about her body at all. It was serviceable. It had never let her down. But wearing next to nothing in front of a man you were in very great danger of falling in love with was another thing entirely.

She puffed out her cheeks, scrunching up her nose at her reflection. There was nothing for it. If she tried to swim in a t-shirt Lacey would definitely have some questions. So she pulled on her navy blue bikini, threw her hair up in a ponytail and left the bathroom.

Lacey was already out on the deck in an even tinier swimsuit that looked to be held together entirely by dental floss while Gold was very pointedly not looking at her as they talked. Belle stopped in the doorway to listen in on their conversation. She was intrigued to hear how Gold stayed in character when she wasn't around.

"You're really not coming in?" Lacey was saying. "You didn't bring anything but 3 piece suits with you to the lake?"

It was true. Her faux boyfriend was in his typical suit – dark grey today with a deep purple silk shirt and matching tie. Belle wondered vaguely if he even owned a pair of jeans.

"I don't own swim trunks," Gold said.

"You have a lake house and no swim trunks?" Lacey, looked outraged.

Gold shrugged a shoulder. "The way Belle and I utilize the cabin, bathing suits are optional."

It was a mark of how this weekend had gone that Belle didn't even blush at his comment.

"Touché, Gold," Lacey said with a laugh.

Belle steeled herself and walked out the back door, doing her best to look natural while simultaneously sucking her stomach in and pushing her chest out. Gold turned to look at her, eyes widening before flicking down to her chest and then away to his right, suddenly riveted by a clump of reeds growing near the side of the dock.

"Belle!" he exclaimed, still looking everywhere but directly at her. "There you are. Good. You should jump in the lake. Swim, I mean. Swimming is beneficial exercise."

"Yeah it is," Belle agreed, head cocking to the side at his strange behavior.

"Sure you won't join us, Roald?" Lacey asked one more time.

"I've already told you, I've nothing to wear," Gold replied, keeping his eyes trained on both sisters' faces, as if straying any lower than their necks would result in grievous injury.

Lacey pulled a face. "Skinny dip then," she said. "It's nothing Belle hasn't seen, and I'm no prude."

"Yeah, Roald," Belle chipped in, feeling more relaxed than she had in days at the sight of his discomfort. He'd been so suave through this whole process it was nice to finally unnerve him a little. It felt like they were on a slightly more even playing field. "Swim suit optional."

With a bit of brazenness, she reached behind her neck to pull at the ties keeping up her bikini top and Gold's eyes about popped out of his head.

"No!" he exclaimed, reaching a hand toward her as if to stop her. "Not necessary at all. I'm perfectly happy to watch. I mean, observe. I mean, I'll be here," he finished miserably, turning to sit in one of the deck chairs with his hands firmly clasped in his lap.

Belle giggled, sauntering to the edge of the dock. A quick glance over her shoulder assured her Gold was watching and she winked before diving in, all traces of self-consciousness forgotten.

In the end, they were able to cajole Gold into removing his jacket, waistcoat and tie. Belle watched him strip off his many layers of armor from the comfort of the cool lake water. She thought if she'd been on shore she might combust from the sheer sensuality of seeing the fearsome Mr. Gold without his armor.

And the man had a lot of armor. For God's sake he even wore sleeve garters. Belle wasn't entirely sure where one would even purchase sleeve garters in this century. By the time Lacey and Belle were done with their swim, Gold had even removed his shoes and socks and dipped his toes in the water.

Belle thought she might as well be seeing him naked.

Once the sun went down, the air got cool and Gold started a fire in the hearth. The three of them sat around it, drinking wine and swapping stories. Gold regaled them with tales about his life as a kid in Glasgow. Lacey had stories filled with names of rock stars Gold had never heard of. Belle had little to add. Her stories all came from books rather than experience.

Lacey polished off a bottle and a half of wine on her own and soon passed out sprawled on the sofa and snoring lightly.

"I guess we should go to bed too," Belle said, glancing over at her sister.

"Probably," Gold agreed.

Belle stood, tucking a throw blanket around her sister's prone form before heading in to the bedroom. Gold followed her and they stood at the foot of the bed, just staring at it in silence for a long moment.

The room was cozy, another small fireplace tucked in to the corner and a large bed with a wooden headboard piled up with quilts in the center. There wasn't much else in the room but a colorful hearth rug and a full length standing mirror in the corner opposite the fireplace. There was no other furniture, not even a chair, where someone could conceivably sleep.

Gold shuffled awkwardly, taking a step toward the bed before stopping again.

"I'll sleep on the floor," he said finally, eyeing the space beside the bed.

Belle's eyes flicked to his cane. She was positive the floor wouldn't be comfortable, and whatever issue Gold had with his leg that made the cane necessary would surely be exacerbated.

"Don't be ridiculous," she insisted. "If anyone is sleeping on the floor it'll be me."

"I can't allow that," he returned. "Don't let the cane fool you, Miss French. I'm quite limber."

Belle put an active stop on her imagination running away with that one. From the smirk on Gold's face, he knew just what he'd implied. Her suspicion that he knew she had a crush on him was becoming more concrete with every passing moment.

"Okay, I'll say it," she spat out. "What if we just share the bed? We're both adults here. We can manage for one night."

Gold opened his mouth as if to say something but no noise came out. So Belle decided to take matters into her own hands. She grabbed her suitcase from beside the bed, pulled out her pajamas and toothbrush, and headed into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

By the time she emerged, Gold must have made a decision. He was already sitting in the bed, as far to the right edge as he could possibly be, with the blankets pulled up to his chest. Belle could just see that he wore navy blue silk pajamas. It was strange to see Mr. Gold in something less than a suit, but it was nice to know he didn't actually sleep in the things.

Belle glanced down at her own nightdress. When Gold said they'd be in close quarters this weekend she assumed he might get sight of her in her pajamas, so she'd packed her nicest nightgown that still left something to the imagination. White cotton with delicate lace straps and a pattern of abstract blue flowers, it just skimmed the tops of her knees.

Gold sat up straighter as she entered the room, clearing his throat and dusting imaginary lint from the quilt over his lap.

"Blue silk pajamas," she said, coming to sit on the far left side of the bed. "They don't make a pajama suit?"

Gold briefly touched the sleeve of his top, smiling slightly. "No, not to my knowledge. Probably wouldn't be very comfortable."

Belle scooted further onto the bed, pulling the covers up over her and leaning back onto the pillows.

"If you stay all the way over there you're liable to fall out in the middle of the night," she said. "You can come closer. I don't bite."

Gold arched an eyebrow. "I wasn't afraid that you did, Miss French." But he scooted closer anyway, slipping down the pillows slightly while still staying upright. Belle rolled on to her side to watch him in the dim light of a single bedside lamp. His brown eyes were dark, his hair falling about his face, strands of silver picking up the light and shining. He was so handsome in profile. He had a lovely nose, she thought.

"Tell me something true about yourself," she said suddenly and he turned his head to look at her. She was warm and comfortable, the wine loosening her tongue and the memory of the way Gold's eyes had traced over her curves in her bathing suit making her bold.

"What would you like to know?"

"Is this really your cabin?" she asked narrowing her eyes at him.

"It is now," he replied smugly.

Belle sat up, not bothering to keep the shock off her face.

"You bought a cabin to keep this going?" she exclaimed.

"Well it's not like anyone in town would loan me one," Gold said by way of defense. "Besides, I knew Leroy could use the extra cash and he never uses the place."

"This was Leroy's?" she asked, astonished. "But it's so nice."

Gold chuckled. "Well, yes, I had someone in to clean and get things in order this morning."

Belle just shook her head with amazement. "You accomplished all this in a span of a few hours? What can't you do?"

Gold snorted. "You'd be surprised."

"I don't know," Belle retorted. "You seem pretty handy to me."

He gave a self-deprecating smile. "You don't know me very well, Miss French."

"Belle," she countered. "If you can call me by my name in front of Lacey, you can do it in private."

He simply nodded. "Well then, Belle. It's only fair if I get to ask a question as well."

"Go ahead," she said, leaning back against the down pillows. "I'm an open book."

Gold shot her a glance that told her he didn't quite believe that.

"Why did you feel the need to fabricate a boyfriend?"

Belle took a deep breath. She should have expected that one, she guessed. It was the whole basis for their relationship in the first place. Of course Gold was curious.

"I'm all alone," she said after a moment, surprising herself with her own honesty. "And Lacey, she worries about me because she knows I'm all alone." Gold looked at her skeptically.

"You're one of the most popular people in this town," he said. "No one thinks badly of you. Surely if you wanted a relationship you would have one."

Belle gave a shrug of her shoulder. "Not really," she admitted. "Every relationship I have is completely superficial. I always get the feeling that if I just didn't show up one day, no one would really notice. No one thinks badly of me because no one thinks of me at all."

It was a sad state of affairs, but it was the truth. She had acquaintances more than friends. No one in town who would think of her first. She'd made a home in Storybrooke but ever since Nana had died it didn't feel like anyone cared.

"I'd notice," he said softly, not quite meeting her eyes. "Seeing you in the mornings, it's the very best part of my day."

Belle beamed, silently overjoyed by his words. Was it possible he felt the same way about her that she had about him all along? This couldn't be part of the act. There was no need for it between just the two of them. And he was getting her property no matter what. He didn't need to suck up to her to keep their deal.

"I don't know if that says anything good about me or just speaks to how boring your days are," Belle quipped. If Gold was being insincere, like with his story of their first date or first meeting, she didn't want to put too much of her hopes in it.

Gold smiled, not a smirk but an actual smile. "Yes, well, there is that. Like you, I live a rather solitary life."

"Well that's because people assume you like being alone," Belle pointed out. "You hardly make it easy on them."

"They assume wrong," he said. "It's just easier this way."

Belle quirked her brow. She had a feeling she was seeing a side to Gold that few, if any, had ever seen. Who would believe her if she told them Mr. Gold was lonely, though she'd suspected it all along.

"Easier how?"

Gold let out a little huff, his words becoming more stilted. "If you have no one in your life, there's no one to let you down. And in my experience, people always let you down."

Belle wondered, not for the first time, how Gold had come to be this way. She imagined he'd been hurt in the past, something heart breaking and damaging, enough to drive him to the hardened man he presented to the rest of the town. But she didn't have the courage to ask him outright.

"That's a rather cynical view of things," she countered.

"Yes," he said, not bothering to put up a fight. "I'm a cynical man."

Belle bit her lip, not sure of what else to say. It felt like something had shifted between them, some invisible wall crumbling. But now she wasn't sure how to proceed outside the bounds of their deal. Her romantic vision of Gold was disappearing and being replaced by the solid reality of the man before her. It made her head spin and her heart hurt, burdened with the knowledge that Gold was much more than she'd expected while the little voice in the back of her head countered that he was just playing a role, one she'd essentially hired him for.

"What's your name?" she asked suddenly. "Your real name."

Gold finally slipped down to lay next to her, his face not far from hers on the pillows. She liked the lines around his eyes and mouth, they told a story, gave him character. He'd once claimed Lacey wouldn't believe she was attracted to him because he was so much older than her when in truth it was part of his charm.

"I like being Roald," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. "Can I just be Roald a little while longer?"

"I suppose so," she said quietly, feeling a sliver of disappointment cut through her. Roald was an act. Roald wasn't real.

Gold was still gazing at her, his eyes mapping over her face.

"Your nose is a little sunburnt," he said finally.

"Oh, yeah, curse of fair skin."

His eyes slipped from her nose down to her lips as she answered and for one heart stopping moment she thought he might kiss her, right here in a shared bed with her sister passed out in the next room and cognizant of nothing. He might kiss her just because he wanted to. But the moment stretched on and he made no move to close the gap between them.

"Goodnight, Belle," he said after the moment had stretched to its breaking point. His eyes flicked back up to meet hers.

"Goodnight, Roald."

He rolled over to turn the lamp off, settling with his back to her and Belle was left to stare at the ceiling in the dark and wonder what the hell had just happened.


	4. Chapter 4

Belle awoke sometime later, slightly disoriented the way one tends to be when they wake up in an unfamiliar place. It was still dark out, silver moonlight streaming in through the bedroom window and giving the cabin an otherworldly glow.

She wasn't sure what had awoken her and lay there quietly for a moment, listening for any sound that could have been the culprit. The only thing that answered her ears was silence, broken by the sound of crickets outside and the light breathing of the person beside her.

Belle rolled over to face Gold only to be startled to find his eyes open and watching her.

It seemed only natural when she curled toward him, his arms enveloping her. Words weren't necessary as his mouth found hers, welcoming her as he captured her bottom lip between his own.

She moaned as Gold's tongue slipped between her lips, coaxing her mouth open for him. This was the kiss she had waited for, not a simple peck for Lacey's benefit but a real, soul-searing, bone-melting kiss. She felt as though her entire body was condensing into a liquid state. Gold's hands seemed to be everywhere, caressing her curls, running over her hips, slipping under the hem of her nightgown and grasping at the flesh of her bottom.

He rolled her beneath him and Belle gripped on to his shoulders to ground herself. This was actually happening. She was in bed with Mr. Gold and this was happening.

"Belle," he moaned against her lips. "My beautiful Belle."

She gasped as his knee nudged hers apart and he settled himself between her thighs. She could feel him, hot and hard against her core through his pajama pants. She wanted to push them down off his hips, but they didn't seem to want to comply. She struggled, her hands getting tangled in his pajamas and the sheets until she wanted to cry out with frustration.

Instead she bucked her hips against the hard length of him, her teeth clenching at the electric shocks that shot through her body at the friction between them.

Somehow she managed to get their clothes out of the way and he finally thrust into her. Belle let out a loud keening noise at the feel of him filling her up, the sensation too much to handle. She was going to come any moment now and they'd barely begun.

She gripped onto the sheets, her hips moving frantically against his, working her way ever closer to that peak. Gold was grunting, his breath hot against the back of her neck…

Belle awoke, panting, her skin feeling tight and prickly to the touch.

What a dream. She hadn't had one of those in a while, though they did tend to center around Mr. Gold when she had them.

There was something niggling at the back of her mind. Something she felt she should remember, but her body was too electric to focus on it. She needed relief and now and there just so happened to be something hard and phallic pressing in to her in just the right way.

She ground back against the something hard until the thing she'd forgotten seemed to come slamming back into her consciousness. There was an arm wrapped around her middle, someone's breath stirring her hair.

She really was in bed with Mr. Gold.

And she was grinding herself against his very real erection that was pressing into her, nearly working herself to orgasm in the sleeping man's arms.

She leapt away as though she'd been burned, trying to get out of the bed but getting tangled up in the sheets and quilts. She was trying to work her way free when she lost her balance, over correcting and falling flat on the hard floor beside the bed in a heap.

"Belle?" Gold exclaimed, sitting straight up and sputtering sleepily.

After a moment, he caught sight of her inelegant position on the floor.

"What are you doing down there?"

Belle just looked sheepish, imagining she couldn't possibly get herself in a worse position this morning.

Gold glanced down at his lap, then back up at Belle, then back to his lap again.

He seemed to understand what had happened immediately.

"Oh God," he sputtered, his face going beet red in a blush. If she wasn't seeing it, she'd never have believed it. "I'm…Belle, I'm sorry." He gathered the remaining covers that Belle hadn't managed to rip off the bed in her tumble and piled them over his crotch.

"Not your fault," she said, covering her eyes with her hands and wishing she could dissolve on the spot. "It's morning and I wasn't helping matters, I'm sure."

Dear God, she'd been dry humping the poor man in his sleep. She was fairly certain Gold was attracted to her in some small way, but he was also a functioning male. No matter what he thought of her personally, grinding your ass against someone was a surefire way to get a reaction.

Lacey was right. She did need to get laid if this was the result of sharing a bed with a man for the first time in years.

"I promise you, I didn't mean anything by it," Gold continued, still looking absolutely mortified.

"I know you didn't," Belle returned from her place on the floor. She was beginning to think she might spend the day there. Let Gold and Lacey head back into town and she'd just hang out on the floor of the cabin for all eternity. She was certain she'd never be able to face the man in front of her again once this weekend disaster was over.

And everything had been going so well, too.

"I offered to sleep on the floor," he persisted. It seemed like something within Gold had broken. He was babbling. She'd never really seen him babble before. It was like he felt compelled, he couldn't stop talking, and it was just making things worse.

"I know you did," she groaned.

"I didn't want something like this to happen."

"I'm sure you didn't."

He was scowling down at his lap now, as though feeling personally betrayed by his own cock.

"I didn't plan this," he said, still staring at his quilt-covered lap. "I wasn't trying to take advantage of you because of our situation."

"I know," she agreed.

"I'm not that man," he said, shaking his head. "I know what everyone thinks of me, but I'd never purposely…assault you."

"It's my fault!" she all but yelled, finally having enough of his guilt. "Dear God, I was humping you. You had a natural reaction. If anyone should feel ashamed about this it's me, not you!"

That was enough to finally shut him up.

"So, I'm sorry," Belle added, looking down at the blankets around her, anywhere but Gold's panic stricken face. "It's all my fault."

The silence that followed her words seemed to stretch on for eternity. Belle gave a heavy sigh, blowing her hair out of her face. This was a truly fucked up situation. How were they supposed to continue behaving as a couple in front of Lacey if they couldn't even look at each other?

Gold cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly in the bed. "It's not your fault," he said so quietly, Belle wasn't entirely sure she was supposed to hear him. "'S not your fault," he repeated a little louder. "I should have slept on the floor."

Belle repressed the urge to roll her eyes again.

"Look, we've got to act somewhat natural in front of Lacey, so can we at least try?"

After a moment, Gold nodded.

"Good," she said with a firm nod of her head.

She stood up, keeping one of the blankets wrapped around her. The flimsy little nightdress that had seemed flirty and cute the night before now felt like it left her too exposed. Gold glanced at her, his eyes darting to her white knuckled grasp on the quilt and he gave a little sigh.

"Bathroom" he mumbled, finally standing up from the bed. Belle couldn't help her eyes flicking down to his crotch, but any excitement had long since dissipated. She turned her head and stared at the wall as he left the room, falling back against the bed once the door shut behind him.

Just last night Gold had told her that seeing her in the mornings was the best part of his day and looked like he might kiss her. And now she'd molested him in his sleep, made him feel responsible for it, and ruined any tentative understanding they'd reached. Belle groaned, rolling on to her side and wishing she would discover that this too was just a dream.

* * *

When Gold emerged from his shower, back in his suit and tie, any and all morning erections safely concealed in his pin striped trousers, things seemed marginally easier to deal with. Belle dressed for the day, trying not to remember the particulars of the dream that had gotten them into this mess nor the feel of Gold pressed up against her. She'd barely had time to appreciate the hard planes of his body, the warmth of his arms, the rather nice sized bulge in his pants, before she'd jumped away from him. She'd never have the chance to wake up in his arms again and she'd squandered it.

Belle felt completely wrong in her own skin. It wasn't a feeling she was used to or enjoyed. She wanted this weekend to end but at the same time, she wanted it to last forever. She wanted to wake up in Gold's arms again and not have to jump away from him when she did. Most of all she wanted Roald to be real, not a mask the town terror wore for a few days only to hang up and never try on again once Lacey left town.

But Roald wasn't real. Gold had told her as much last night when he refused to give her his real first name. He'd told her he wanted to be Roald for a while longer meaning that the real Gold, whoever he was, was different. She knew the persona Gold presented to the town, the man who had threatened Granny right in front of her. The man who once turned a group of nuns out on the street for being one day behind in the rent. And yet there must be some shred of "Roald" inside him somewhere, the charming man who'd managed to win over her sister.

Belle had always been intrigued by Gold. She'd nursed a crush for years now built mostly on a romantic vision of him she entertained in her head. But now, spending time with the real flesh and blood man, she was fairly certain she'd fallen in love with him. And the idea that that flesh and blood man, the one she loved, didn't exist at all was terrifying.

And suddenly Belle was just so tired. She needed to step away from this while her heart was still hers, before she gave it away and it was inevitably smashed like a china teacup on the floor. She'd planned to "break up" with Roald shortly after Lacey left town, but it seemed wiser to bite the bullet and do it now. Lacey would be worried for her, but at least she'd salvage what was left of herself. Gold could have her grandmother's property, they could conclude their deal, and that would be that.

Lacey was drinking coffee out on the back deck, so Belle grabbed Gold, pulling him into the bedroom with her. She studiously avoided looking at the bed where she'd so recently been spooned up against him.

"I just wanted to say again how sorry I am about this morning," she began, forcing herself to look him in the eye. "I think I can safely promise nothing like that will ever happen again."

Gold shook his head slightly. "As I said, you've nothing to apologize for."

"Can you just accept my apology?" she snapped back at him.

"Fine," he agreed. "Apology unnecessary, but accepted."

"Thank you," she breathed with a sigh of relief. "Anyway, I'm beginning to think this whole thing was a major mistake. We need to just stage a big fight and tell Lacey we broke up. There's no real sense in dragging this out any longer."

"I thought the whole purpose of this weekend was so that Lacey would see how happy you are and stop worrying about you," he said confused. "Won't you going through a break up just worry her more?"

"Let me worry about Lacey, alright?" she said, her patience running thin. She wasn't sure why she was so snappish with Gold. He hadn't actually done anything wrong. In fact, he'd done everything right. He'd done everything too right. "All I need from you is to get into a fight with me that Lacey believes is serious enough to cause us to split up. Oh, maybe you're cheating on me."

"Belle, please," he said reaching for her, his hand hovering a few scant inches from her arm. "I know that's not what you want."

Something hot and molten and altogether foreign flared up inside Belle at his words.

"How do you know what I want?" she asked incredulously. "You don't know me. You have a notebook full of facts, half of them made up. You don't know me at all."

Gold looked taken aback, hurt flashing across his eyes before he slid into his usual icy demeanor, one she hadn't seen on him since they'd begun this whole farce.

"And whose fault is that exactly?" He asked, his face settling into a sneer. "You flounce around this town smiling at everyone but not bothering to get to really know them. Tell me Belle, what are you so damn afraid of?"

"What are you?" She demanded in return. "You admit you're lonely but you cultivate this fearsome reputation specifically to keep people away from you."

As soon as the words left her mouth she knew she'd crossed some invisible line. He'd opened up to her last night, told her he was alone, and she threw it back in his face the first chance she got. Gold shook his head, his mouth settling into a grim line.

"You know what your problem is Belle?" He asked finally. "You don't know what you want. You want me to play the role of this perfect made up boyfriend, and I do it. You want me to pull back because I'm too convincing, and I do it. You want a cabin, I get it…"

"I didn't ask you to do that," she interrupted.

"No," he agreed. "But I did it because I wanted to help you. I wanted to keep this little fantasy going all for you. And now you don't even want that. So tell me, what was the point? What do you want?"

"I wanted you!" She cried, the words bubbling up and coming out before she could stop them. Gold's eyes widened, his mouth falling open slightly. "But I don't even know who you are," she added quietly.

"No, I don't suppose you do," Gold agreed with a shake of his head. "Because if you knew me, you'd know that nothing, not one single thing I've said all weekend has been a lie. Belle, you're an intelligent woman. How is it possible that you're so bloody obtuse?"

With that he limped from the room, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

She sucked in a ragged breath at the implication of his words. He'd been telling the truth, all of it. His first impression of her standing outside the library under the storm clouds was real. The story that he'd been pining for her for five years never daring to believe she could have feelings for an old pawn broker was real. That seeing her smile at him was the best part of his day was real.

Every bit of it was true and Belle felt like the biggest fool that she hadn't realized.

* * *

The drive back to town was subdued. Even Lacey seemed to have tired of conversation, perhaps a result of the bottle of wine that had knocked her out the night before. Or maybe she could just feel the palpable tension between Gold and Belle. Belle rather thought it was probably reflecting off them like prisms of light, a tangible thing sucking the air out of the cab of the car and suffocating them all in the vacuum.

By the time they'd pulled up in front of Belle's apartment, the silence was almost physically painful. It seemed like Belle couldn't think of a single thing to say that wouldn't come out wrong.

 _I had a great time this weekend_ while not a blatant lie, seemed somehow false in the wake of what had happened that morning. _See you later_ was a flat out lie. Belle didn't imagine she'd see much of Gold at all once she dropped Lacey at the airport the following morning. _I love you, don't hate me. I don't want things to end this way_ was decidedly true and yet felt completely wrong for the occasion.

"Well, I guess this might be it, Roald," Lacey said, as Gold handed her overnight bag to her from the trunk. "I'm headed back to California first thing tomorrow."

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Lacey," Gold said, extending his hand to shake hers.

Lacey glanced at his hand before dropping her bag to the ground and throwing her arms around Gold in a hug instead. The man looked positively flabbergasted, his arms hanging stiffly at his sides before coming up to pat Lacey on the back.

"I like you," she said, pulling back and looking Gold in the eye. "I think you're good for Belle. But if you fuck this up, I will walk here from California if I have to just to kick your ass. You're kind of skinny, and I could take you."

Gold's eyes flicked to Belle for the briefest of moments before returning to Lacey.

"Acknowledged," he said softly.

Lacey shouldered her bag again, turning to look at Belle expectantly.

"Belle," Gold said politely, nodding to her.

He bent as if to kiss her on the cheek only to think better of it and pull back at the last second. Instead he patted her awkwardly on the shoulder before getting back in the Cadillac and driving away.

Belle watched him go, the sick feeling in her stomach telling her she'd absolutely ruined any burgeoning relationship between them.

"Are you guys in a fight or something?" Lacey asked once they'd gotten in to Belle's apartment. "Things seemed a little tense on the drive home."

Belle shook her head sadly. She didn't have the energy to do this anymore.

"It's over," she said stiffly. And a moment later she'd dissolved into tears.


	5. Chapter 5

Lacey managed to get Belle onto the sofa, a cup of tea in her hands and an arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"What happened?" she asked. "Everything seemed to be going well between you two."

Belle just shrugged, unsure what to say. Should she just come clean? Tell her sister the silly truth of it all, that Gold was nothing more than the pawnbroker she'd had a crush on from afar for years, nothing more than the man she'd fallen irrevocably in love with only to ruin it all?

"I screwed up," she finally managed, sniffling into her teacup. "I ruined everything."

Lacey just scoffed. "Then go apologize, everything'll be just fine."

Belle rolled her eyes. "It's not that easy."

"Bullshit," her sister exclaimed, leaning back against the sofa. "Belle, he loves you. And I'm not talking about whatever fake relationship you've had going on all weekend. I mean the man really loves you."

Belle's half empty teacup fell from her fingers, rolling across the hardwood floor and settling under her reading chair, leaving a trail of tea in its wake.

"What?" she gasped. "You knew?"

"Of course I knew," Lacey deadpanned. "You've never been a good liar." At Belle's scandalized look, she continued. "Look, I'm pretty good at being able to tell who has fucked who and Gold has definitely never seen you naked before much less done anything interesting. The man's eyes nearly fell out of his head just seeing you in a bathing suit."

Belle just shook her head, trying to process the fact that her sister hadn't been fooled for a moment and had gone along with it anyway.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Lacey just shrugged. "Because he's clearly crazy about you. And you like him too. So I thought if I went along with it, maybe life would imitate art or something like that."

"So this whole weekend has been for nothing," Belle said with a shake of her head. "You knew the whole time?"

"Well, I wouldn't say good for nothing," Lacey said, crossing her arms against her chest. "You got to spend several days with Gold. That's a good thing, right?"

"Yeah I guess," she mumbled grumpily.

"So, I can totally understand coming up with some huge convoluted plot to get the guy you like to notice you," Lacey continued. "What I don't understand is why you thought you had to lie to me."

Belle squeezed her eyes shut as if she could block out the world beyond her if she couldn't see it.

"Your life is amazing," she began. "You always have something going on. You have tons of friends and lovers and you travel and meet interesting people. Meanwhile I'm just here at a library in Maine. And don't get me wrong, I like my life. But sometimes I just wish there was _more_. And telling you all about my free wheeling sexually adventurous relationship was a way to feel like I had more. It's so stupid."

She broke off, burying her face in her hands.

"Hey, my life is not amazing," Lacey said, shaking Belle by the shoulder. "I'm a fucking mess, Belle."

Belle rolled her eyes. "You're just trying to make me feel better. Everything about your life sounds great."

"Yeah," Lacey agreed. "It sounds great because I make it sound that way. But trust me, it's not. I barely make enough money to live on. I had to max out my credit card to get a plane ticket to visit you so that was a dumb decision. I have a lot of meaningless sex with guys who can't even remember my name the next time I see them and while that's fun for a while, it's not exactly something you want to still be doing when you're staring down thirty. And on top of all of that, I fell in love with a complete idiot."

Lacey left off, heaving a sigh. "God it feels good to get that out there."

Belle let out a hysterical little laugh. "So we've both been lying to each other to make our pathetic lives seem better."

"So it would seem," Lacey agreed. "We're a lot more alike than people think."

They were silent for a moment, a comfortable silence now that all the dirty laundry was aired.

"I have something else to confess too if we're going crazy with the honesty," Lacey said suddenly. "I didn't just come here because I was worried about you. I know it's selfish, but I needed to get away from L.A. and this seemed a perfect opportunity."

"Why?" Belle asked. "Something to do with that idiot you apparently fell in love with?"

Lacey rolled her eyes.

"There's this guy, right?" she said knowingly. "And, he's not my usual type at all. I mean he's totally washed up. He was famous in the '90s but he doesn't even play anymore and his band broke up forever ago and half of them are dead now anyway. But we met at this party and we hooked up a few times and I don't know, somewhere in all of that it became something more serious. I just, I couldn't do it anymore. I had to get away. I mean, he's got a kid. Like, a living, breathing, little human. And now he's probably getting deported anyway and I just, I lost it for a bit. I had to get away."

"Deported?" Belle repeated.

"Yeah," Lacey said. "So it's all pointless. I'm never gonna see him again. It's not like I can afford to up and fly to fucking Scotland."

Belle's eyes widened. "Your guy is Scottish too?"

"Yeah, what are the odds," Lacey shrugged.

Belle was silent for a moment, thinking over her sister's predicament.

"You know, you're an American citizen," she told Lacey after a moment.

"Yeah," Lacey agreed. Belle just continued to look at her, waiting for her meaning to catch on.

"Oh, fuck no!" Lacey exclaimed when she realized what Belle was implying and leaping up from the sofa. "I'm not marrying him. No chance. No way."

Belle just shrugged. "It was just a suggestion."

"I mean, that's absolutely crazy," Lacey continued to protest, pacing across the living room. "Just because I love him doesn't mean I should marry him. That's ridiculous. You don't just marry people because they might leave and never come back if you don't."

Belle smirked. "As I said, it was just a suggestion. You don't have to take it."

"Why are we talking about me anyway?" Lacey demanded. "You're the one with the fixable fucked situation. Go talk to Gold."

Belle scowled. "I can't. I ruined everything and he hates me now."

"Oh shut up," Lacey said, dramatically falling back against the sofa. "You love him and he loves you. Whatever you said or did, he'll forgive you."

Belle bit her lip. "How can you be sure?"

"Because if he doesn't I'll kick his ass."

Belle snorted, kicking her feet up on to the coffee table. "Well, can it wait until tomorrow? This is your last night in town and who knows when I'll see you again."

"Yeah," Lacey agreed, wrapping her arms around Belle in a tight hug. "Sisters before misters."

"Hey, his name isn't really Roald is it?" Lacey asked with a wince, pulling back to look at her sister.

Belle sighed.

"I don't even know."

* * *

Belle awoke early on Tuesday morning, planning on dropping Lacey off at the airport before work, only to find that she shouldn't have bothered.

"I called a cab," Lacey said, shouldering her bag and pouring her left over coffee from one of Belle's mugs - this one emblazoned with a direwolf and the words "Winter is Coming" - into a Styrofoam cup to take with her.

"Why?" Belle asked, pouring her own coffee. "I thought you didn't have any money to waste."

Lacey rolled her eyes. "I'm not completely destitute. And you don't need to waste half the morning driving me to the airport. Don't you have to go smile at Gold from across the street? Isn't that your thing?"

Belle heaved a sigh, sinking down into a kitchen chair. "I'm pretty sure that phase of the relationship is scuppered."

"Then move on to the next phase of the relationship," Lacey said as a horn honked outside the apartment. "Go talk to him."

She dropped a kiss against Belle's cheek, hugging her tightly before scampering out the door. Lacey certainly seemed in a better mood than she had the night before, bemoaning the status of her relationship with the washed up '90s rockstar. She'd refused to give Belle a name.

With a morning now devoid of anything to do, Belle took her time getting ready. If she had to face Gold, she wanted to do it in style. She curled her hair, paid special attention to her winged eyeliner until it was absolutely perfect, and picked out her favorite sundress, the blue one Gold had mentioned her wearing on their fictitious first date.

She made her way downstairs and stood in front of the library doors, waiting for 8:00 on the dot, when she usually saw Mr. Gold open his pawnshop across the street.

But 8:00 came and went, and the shop didn't open. By 8:15 rain clouds were gathering and by 8:30 there was a deluge, forcing Belle inside the library.

The weather outside matched her mood as the day stretched on without a single glimpse of Gold. She couldn't keep her eyes from straying out the front window of the library any time she passed it, but the Closed sign remained clearly visible in the door of the shop across the street.

Gold apparently hated her so much now he was willing to lose a day's business just to avoid her.

By early afternoon, she was at her wit's end. She retreated to her office in the back of the library, digging around in her bottom desk drawer for the papers she'd had drawn up for the sale of Nana's property. It was time to talk to Gold. If he wanted to conclude their deal, that would be that.

She really hoped he didn't want to conclude the deal.

There seemed to be a break in the weather, so she locked up the library and headed off in the direction of Gold's house. She'd never actually been there before, but everyone in town knew where he lived. He had a large brick mansion right near the mayor's house in the heart of Storybrooke. It was the nicest neighborhood in town and it never seemed to suit him. Belle thought he'd be more at home somewhere a bit further away from his tenants.

His house was only a couple of blocks from the library, but it had started to drizzle when she was halfway there. There were little pinprick water marks appearing on the suede fabric of her burgundy peep toes and she quickened her pace, trying to save them.

By the time she reached his house she was sure her hair had frizzed up to epic proportions and her makeup was probably smeared. Her dress was slightly damp and the skirt was clinging to her legs.

So much for looking good for this confrontation.

Any hesitation she had about actually knocking on Gold's door was overwhelmed by her desire to not stand in the rain, so she strode up his front steps purposefully. Actually, it was more of a mad dash up the steps with a slight wobble due to her heels and an almost twisted ankle, but Belle would console herself that she'd strode purposefully.

Once she was under the blessed cover of his front porch, she knocked purposefully as well.

"Belle," Gold exclaimed as he opened the door, looking surprised to see her. Before he could say anything else, Belle cut him off.

"Today was a bad day," she said, probably unnecessarily by virtue of her appearance. Gold looked utterly confused and utterly beautiful. She'd always thought he was handsome, but when did he become so heart stoppingly beautiful to her? When did the transition happen from a simple crush to what she felt now? She wasn't sure she'd ever know exactly.

Gold was still staring at her expectantly.

"You told me the other day that seeing me in the mornings was the best part of your day," she forged on bravely. "But what I didn't say then is, that it's the best part of my day too."

Gold just blinked, still looking stunned.

"I always liked you because you were handsome and mysterious and I liked to fantasize about who you really were behind the suits and the snark. But now I know the real you."

"Ah," Gold said, finally breaking eye contact and looking down at his feet. "I see."

"I didn't think any of this through," she admitted. "I just knew what I needed, and I made a deal with you without thinking about what would come of it. It was impulsive and I'm sorry."

"You're sorry you made the deal," he said, nodding his head slowly.

"No," she was quick to clarify. "I'm really glad I got to know you. I'm just sorry if I hurt you. Truth be told, I didn't realize I could."

Gold just nodded his head again. "Apology unnecessary, but accepted," he said with a little smirk.

"I had an act of sale drawn up," she said, pulling the relevant folder from her bag and holding it out to him. "You can review it and if you sign, the property is yours and our deal is complete. You held up your end admirably."

Gold took the folder from her outstretched hand, looking down at it as if it were utterly foreign. A moment later, he had ripped the thing cleanly in half.

"What…" Belle began.

"I don't care about the bloody property," Gold growled. Actually growled. It sent a little shock of something straight through Belle's body.

"What do you mean?" she asked, staring down at the shredded legal document. "You always ask me about selling."

"Because I wanted something to talk to you about," Gold cried, tossing the paper into the foyer behind him carelessly. "That property is utterly useless for development."

"What about the house?" Belle asked, not sure why she was somewhat offended that her grandmother's farm was apparently worthless. "The house is nice."

"It's pink," Gold shot back.

"Salmon," Belle argued. "And it's in a beautiful location. But I take your point."

"Belle, I asked you about that property every month to have a reason to spend a few more seconds in your company. It was nothing more than something to talk to you about so I could hear your voice just a moment longer."

"Why?" she asked, pulling at her skirt self-consciously. "Why not just strike up a real conversation or ask me out for coffee, I would have said yes."

"And how could I possibly have known that?" he asked exasperatedly. "Why would someone young and vibrant and beautiful like you ever look twice at me?"

"You would have known if you'd just asked," she replied petulantly.

Gold looked at her with raised eyebrows, the hand not holding his cane spread wide. "Are we going to argue over this?" he asked.

Belle rolled her eyes, an action she'd done so often recently she thought they may get permanently stuck in that position.

"Why did you agree to my deal then if I didn't even have anything you wanted?"

Gold smiled.

"I think you underestimate the value of your company," he said earnestly. "The woman I long admired from afar was offering to pretend to be in love with me for several days. Who would say no to that? I knew better than to think it would ever lead to anything more, but I was determined to enjoy myself while it lasted."

Belle shook her head with a sad smile. "There's that cynicism again."

"It's a persistent trait," Gold agreed.

"It wasn't pretend though," she said, stepping closer to where Gold was framed in the doorway.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I didn't have to pretend to be in love with you," she said with certainty. "Because I already am. I love you, the real you. I love the man you've shown me over this whole crazy experience. I love you, and I don't even know your real name."

Gold looked shell-shocked. Belle wasn't surprised. She was pretty sure she'd just set the world record for using the words "I love you" in a single breath. But then the silence stretched on and on. She was beginning to feel ridiculous, declaring her love for him on his porch as the rain poured down around them. For God's sake she hadn't even made it in inside.

"James," he said finally, right as Belle was debating sprinting away off the porch. "My real name is James."

Belle smacked her palm against her forehead. "If only I'd had _James and the Giant Peach_ on my desk instead of _Matilda_ , I'd have been right," she groaned.

That startled a laugh out of Gold, and it was contagious. Belle started laughing too, the tightness in her chest easing and her heart feeling suddenly buoyant.

"I love you, James Gold," she said between giggles.

"And I love you Belle French," he returned.

He looped his arm around her waist, dropping his cane and pulling her flush against him. A moment later his lips were on hers, kissing her like she'd never been kissed before, not even in dreams.

One hand tangled in her rain soaked hair, the other lay against the small of her back, pulling her impossibly closer to him. She was overwhelmed by the heat of him, the masculine smell of his cologne, the pressure of his lips against hers. His tongue traced along the seam of her lips and Belle opened for him without thinking twice. And God he tasted better than she could ever have imagined.

Belle clung to him like limp spaghetti. Her hands gripped tight on to his shoulders, not daring to move at the risk of this being yet another amazing dream. Even if it was, she was going to enjoy it for what it was. So she kissed and kissed and kissed.

After what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes, Gold pulled away. Belle let out a pathetic little whimper at the loss of him.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," he said, his voice growling again in that way that shot straight to her core.

"I can tell," Belle said dreamily. "Do it again."

She leaned forward to kiss him again, only for Gold to stop her.

"I, uh, think we'd better go inside for what comes next," he smirked.

Belle bit her lip, blushing slightly and Gold let out another laugh.

"Oh don't get shy on me now," he said, tightening his arms around her waist. "Not after our six month purely sexual fake relationship."

Belle giggled again.

"I have had a lot of time to think about this," she agreed. "I just hope you can keep up."

"Challenge accepted," Gold said, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the house. The door slammed behind them as the rain pattered against the windows.

* * *

The sun was hot, beating down on the back of Lacey's neck as she stamped across the field. She wasn't sure what the neatly spaced rows of crops were supposed to be. She'd never had much of an eye for that sort of thing.

The man she'd talked to at the entrance to the farm said Lachlan would be in this field, but she didn't see anyone.

Lacey crossed her arms against her chest. This was stupid. She was out here baking in the California sun, getting her new boots caked in dirt, and for what? Belle and Gold had made up and for some reason it made Lacey believe that maybe, just maybe, things could work out for her as well.

Stupid!

Lacey heaved a deep breath, turning around and planning to head back to her car. She'd drive straight back to the city and put all of this behind her. She'd forget there was ever a Lachlan Macaldonich to begin with. She'd throw out her Cranks albums that she'd had since she was a teenager, torch the old Cranks t-shirts, and purge the man from her memory.

"Lacey?" came a surprised Scottish accented voice from behind her.

She stopped in her tracks, turning around slowly to face the owner of that accent.

"Hey," she said with a smile that felt more like a grimace.

Lachlan was standing there looking hot as hell, sweating through his white V-neck t-shirt. He had a wrench in one gloved hand, his tanned forearms streaked with dirt.

She'd never thought of herself as going for a sweaty, dirt covered man, but by God Lachlan made the look work.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, swiping the hair out of his eyes and leaving another dirt streak across his forehead.

Lacey took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a brief moment. She thought back to her conversation with Belle and came to a decision.

"I thought of a way to keep you in California," she said, opening her eyes to gauge his reaction.

"What's that?" he asked, bracing a hand on his hip.

"Marry me."


End file.
